The Master's sword
by paulino1013
Summary: The Sage of Light listens to the past souls of Ganon.


An old man sitting crossed legged on a marble floor in a large room with translucent walls that shows the entire universe. He held a medallion between his hands, obviously extremely heavy because all his muscles and veins were bulging, but nonetheless held calmly and deliberately. He slowly opens his eyes to see he is surrounded by red ghost and wisp of various animals and people.

Old Man: I see you often, you and two others, but you intrigue me most. Sit, please. Speak with me.

(The figures, ghost and wisps collected together and formed a dim lit apparition that sat with poise.)

Old Man: I've never seen such a tortured soul… or souls. Do you know how many lives you are?

Figure: It seems as if we fade in and out of this dimension. I'm cursed to see our iterations disappoint time and again. We all have different stories. Most we can barely remember except our own… and a few others. The stories are seemingly infinite.

Old man: What stories have you heard?

Figure: I hear them whispered… then forgotten in my head. (Somberly) so many. One story is different though. It almost feels as if the memories are not mine, but we all share them so vividly. It's about the one time we lost.

Old Man: (He puts the medallion on the floor next to him and starts to concentrate on the story) I don't presume to judge, but you don't seem as a man that has ever won in his life.

(figure looks into the old man's eyes and smiles)

Figure: That's because you don't know how I lost. The story seems long in my head since it is an entire lifetime, but it is remarkably short to tell. I met the most remarkable woman, full of life and curiosity. Luckily, I was the most curious thing she had ever met and fell in love with me at first sight. I didn't understand why such a ray of light and hope would ever love me. She was so intense and clingy; it was hard to love her back.

But not that hard.

(The figure looks down almost ashamed then smiles.)

Figure: We lived a wonderful life together. We built a home with friends nearby. We formed trade routes to local farms. We worked the fields during the day. We partied every night and sang to the stars.

Then the lord of the region asked for my help to expand his influence. The farms boomed with prosperity after our alliance. I traveled with soldiers as I led the delivery caravans. When we made camp to feed and water the horses, the men practiced with their swords I cooked and shared stories of the farm, my beautiful wife. Time to time I even practiced swords with the men. I learned during my first spar that I was gifted at fighting. The men respected my skills with the sword, as well as my ability to stay away from my charming wife weeks at a time.

I could never stay away long,

(He smiles and starts to tear up)

We were having our first child. Over the years I trained the caravans on how to help farms produce more while doing less. We also taught them how to play the songs we sang at night. They taught me and my son how to use the sword. We learned the sword together…. my son and I. He was not a good farmer, but fascinated with the motions of the sword. We practiced so often together we actually got better than the generals. They might have gotten angrier at that fact if my wife did not make the best pumpkin pie in the world. My Lord saw his influence grow exponentially. His trade caravans provided food for a majority of the kingdom. The land knew more of my lord's and my farms than of their king's

(The Figure grits his teeth hard while smoke swirls around him emitting a faint red light)

The king was getting jealous of the influence my lord had. He was seen as more capable and caring… he could not have that. So the king set fires to my fields.

All of them

So many lives gone in one night. The lord's entire family was slain in front of him.

My wife.

Almost my son. He was saved by some soldiers from a caravan I once led. I thanked the soldiers and grabbed one of their swords. I walked to the estate and saw my Lord's will broken, crying over his family. I walked over to the castle and made my way to the king's chamber, then calmly forced a sword in the heart of the king.

I lost my wife, my livelihood, and I never wanted anyone to feel what I felt.

I trained the caravans to go further, taught them the ways of the sword so they could confront any obstacle head on.

And we grew.

The lord supported me every step of the way for killing the king for him. Even my son became important. He led caravans to all the other realms of the world and they flocked to him, he was just like his beautiful mother. The alliance grew to a kingdom, with everyone looking to me as their leader. Even the Lord.

The kingdom grew with all the realms under my flag. We were prosperous, but never really knew peace. The outer realms quarreled with the merchants and soldiers, they did not want to use the land like the rest of the nation. I sent my son to speak to the smaller realms, he had an ability to convince everyone to work together. One trip took a longer time than usual and I didn't receive word from him for over a month. The violence in the outer realms became worse and organized, I was afraid his life had been lost. I gathered my strongest generals to search for my son. We went directly to the villages of those who would not join and laid waste to many of them.

I screamed at the top of my lungs while fighting their soldiers, I would not leave until I found my son. Thousands of my soldiers arrived, surrounded their soldiers and killed them all. We went on a campaign, burning everything in sight until my fifth day of my rampage. A masked man killed every single soldier and general of mine. His body was the wind and his sword was fire. If I could kill this person that has caused so much damage to me, then maybe I could stop missing my son.

He ran away and I chased. Only a person of his caliber was capable of killing my son. The chase led me to a clearing with the most fertile land I had ever seen. I could smell the magic evaporate from the surface of the stream. The masked man never noticed me give chase so he led me directly to his base camp. His camp was teeming with sprites, fairies, and monsters of the land, the same kind that were killing my soldiers.

They cheered happily when the masked man told them he'd slain every soldier. I have never heard something so despicable; trivializing the lives of men with families. I ran out of the bushes, made my way towards him with fury in my soul, and I stabbed him while the fairies and monsters just looked at me terrified. I don't remember how many times either. I don't remember caring to stop either.

He was responsible for the life of my men.

He was also responsible for taking away the most precious gift my dead wife gave me: my son.

I turned his limp body around then removed his mask. I began to dig a grave with my bare hands. I dug for three days for it to get deep enough to bury the body.

To finish everything off, his tombstone was the sword I drove through his chest all those times.

(The figure paused for a long time looking down to the ground, then looked up to the old man. The red figure walked through the man and made way to an alter and kneeled on it)

Old Man: so what happened next?

Figure: I walked away.

Stopped growing the nation.

I've always hated this alter. I see it in most of my memories…. Even though I win almost every time, it reminds me of the one time I lost.

You know, I used that sword in the alter to kill my son. It's ironic, the symbol of hope of every realm is the symbol of my despair.

(The figure turns to the old man then smiles. He stands tall and strong and starts to separate to his many incarnations, then his apparitions dissipate. Light scorch marks marked the floor where his figure kneeled on the alter. The old man cleaned the marks, made his way to the middle of the of room, sat, and faced the sword in the alter.)

Old Man: So... that was your first story

(Slow Zelda theme song begins to play).


End file.
